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Poetry

Land of Lost Moments

I hold the answer in my hand held tight in a fist.
Inside it, I carry the weight of years lost in quiet introspection.
Dreams discarded,
like tufts of dead grass tossed on the side of the road,
laying in a pile that grows higher every day,
now too unwieldy to take away.
I gaze at the brown spots that litter my lawn,
exposing my flaws for all to see.
I know that snow laden winters and warm spring waters
can no longer give sustenance here.
The years have been cruel to my land, my house,
my lot of moments castaway in impulsiveness.

I have spent too many afternoons looking across the road.
In doing so, I have neglected what was intrinsically mine.
My creations, my livelihood of moments gone by without regret,
until now. I know the grass will never grow here again.
I lost the fight the day the grass died,
and I hurled the scraps across the yard like words
promised in haste and then forgotten.
The responsibility was mine and mine alone.
I own all the mistakes, the blemishes that proliferate.
Only when night falls will I find salvation. Only when darkness
covers the dead brown spots that litter my lawn.

I’ve been going through so many changes lately. 

My thoughts continue to take me through different levels of my mind. One day I’ll find the answers.